


Not Quite Disney

by MdeCarabas



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: AU - Fairytale, F/M, M/M, Multi, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 10:16:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3606447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MdeCarabas/pseuds/MdeCarabas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kaikaina falls under a spell, Tucker and Wash may be the only ones who can save her...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Quite Disney

Washington has heard and seen a lot of strange things in his lifetime, but somehow this one takes the cake. "Let me get this straight," he says, "Kai's parents angered a fairy when she was a just a baby, resulting in her being cursed to fall into an eternal sleep on her twenty first birthday. And you want _me_ to kiss her awake?"

Tucker nods.

"Is that really what I'm hearing right now?"

"C'mon, Wash, you're a fucking prince," Tucker points out unnecessarily, "You know how the story goes. The hottest chick in the land gets cursed and then some handsome prince comes along and rescues her. It's like tradition."

Washington feels himself color against his will. "You think I'm handsome?"

"Well, not as hot as _me_ ," Tucker says, his boast as empty as his voice has been through throughout his entire recitation. It lacks the energy, the emotion that Tucker's voice usually has, and that more than anything is what has Wash convinced that the whole thing isn't part of some awful prank.

Which means Kaikaina really is in a magical coma.

Washington feels his stomach twist up into knots. There has to be a way to stop it, some way of breaking the spell that doesn't involve kissing the woman his best friend is interested in. Something he could do that would make everything okay.

But he knows there isn’t. For these kind of spells, only one thing can ever break them.

Regardless, he hesitates before pointing it out. "Tucker," he begins reluctantly, voice softening in an effort to be kind to his friend, "You do realize that most of the people in those stories were only saved because of True Love's Kiss, right? What makes you think that I can save her?"

Tucker's hands clench into fists. "Because I've seen the way you look at each other."

And, well, there's nothing Washington can say to that.

 

* * *

 

When Wash was a teenager he had a very special toy. It was a ball, golden and beautiful, and though he was much too old to play with it he still treasured the toy like he did no other.

You see, his mother had given it to him before she died.

Naturally, it was devastating when he lost it in the river. He didn't mean to of course. He was only playing with it on the bridge. But that didn't change the fact that it slipped out of his hands and into the water below, escaping his fumbling grasp and reaching out hands.

For a moment, Washington had just stood there frozen, panicking inwardly at the thought of going home empty handed. But then he heard the voice that would change his life forever. The voice of the boy he would come to love.

“Dude, are you really crying over a ball?”

“No!” Washington had said automatically, quickly swiping a hand over his face to wash away the slightest sign of tears. He blinked back what was left of them welling in his eyes and looked around suspiciously, but there was no sign of the boy he heard speaking.

“Uh, try looking down, asshole.”

“I’m not an asshole!” Wash protested, but looked down nevertheless, seeing no hint of the speaker’s hiding place. “Wait, where are you?”

"Down here," the boy had said. Washington followed the sound of his voice to a small frog sitting by the river's edge. It was beautiful—for a frog, at least—and a pale aqua shade that made it stand out against the rock he was standing on.

"Is that you?" Wash blurts out, and then: "You're cursed, aren't you?"

The frog croaked derisively. "No shit."

Washington just took that in for a few seconds. "Do you know how to break the spell?" he asked the frog after some time had passed, "Maybe I can help you."

The frog snorted. "Not unless you're royalty."

Wash couldn't help but start to smile.

"What, seriously?" the frog said. It hopped closer to Washington's position at the bridge, somehow giving the impression that it was excited and hopeful for the first time in forever. "Hey, I'll make you a deal. I'll get your ball back if you make out with me when I return."

Washington recoiled. "Make out with you!?"

He swore it looked like the frog was sulking. "Or just kiss me, whatever."

Washington eyed him warily, somehow not convinced that this whole thing wasn't part of some big prank on the part of his friends. It would be just like York to try to get him to kiss a frog. It would be just like South to egg him on.

"Is this some kind of trick?"

"Do I look like I'm fucking joking?" the frog said. He came even closer to the bridge, hopping angrily like he was winding up to give Washington the tongue lashing of his lifetime, "I used one bad pickup line on a sorceress and was cursed to eat flies for the rest of my life. Does that seem fair to you?"

No, Washington was forced to admit, it really didn't sound fair at all

"Alright," he said, "We have a deal."

And so the frog kept up his end of the bargain and Washington did the same and in a sudden burst of magic and music and relieved laughter, a gorgeous young man was standing next to him on the bridge.

But then, Tucker got off easy. His curse didn't require true love.

All he needed was a prince.

 

* * *

 

"We leave at dawn," Washington orders as he carefully packs his clothes, "If we travel without taking too many breaks, then we'll be able to get to her in a little over a day. So pack light.”

Tucker gives him a scathing look. “Did you think I was gonna bring my whole fucking closet?”

Washington reminds himself that Tucker’s probably been worrying himself sick for days. “I didn’t say that,” he says patiently, “All I said was to pack light. You’re just putting words in my mouth.”

“I’m not—"

“Yes, you are,” Washington interrupts, ignoring the way it causes Tucker’s eyes to narrow and his lips to purse, “But more importantly you’re wasting our time. We still need to prepare for tomorrow’s trip.”

“Why can’t we leave now?” Tucker asks.

“Because—" Washington begins. He pauses, reconsidering his strategy. They _could_ leave now if they really wanted, as long as they packed both fast and carefully. It would mean getting to Kaikaina sooner. “Alright. We can do that”

Tucker blinks hard, obviously startled. “What, really?”

Washington gives him a wry smile. “Really.”

When Tucker smiles it’s like the sun coming out. Just like always Wash is caught up in the sight, unable to look away from the brightness even it blinds his eyes. Almost against his will, he finds his feet moving closer to where Tucker is standing.

When they’re a foot away from each other, Tucker’s chin tilting upward and the air in both their lungs coming quick,  Washington finally asks the question that’s been on his mind since all this started.

“Tucker...why didn’t you break the spell on Kai?”

Tucker recoils as if he’s been hit, shoving Wash away with a violent push. "Don't you think I fucking tried?" he spits out angrily, "Because I fucking _did_. I tried like seven times and she didn't wake up for me at all."

Washington winces. “Tucker—"

“No!” Tucker says, “Don’t give me that bullshit! You know how I feel about her!”

“That’s why I said it!” Wash protests, “It’s just…”

He hesitates, unsure of whether to say the thought that’s on his mind. After a moment, he does anyway, because at this point in this whole mess the three of them are caught up in there’s no reason not to be open and honest.

“I just don’t understand why the spell wouldn’t work for you.”

“Well it didn’t,” Tucker says flatly.

“I know,” Wash says, “It’s just...I’ve seen the way that you look at her too.”

 

* * *

 

Meeting Kaikaina was different from meeting Tucker, but no less magical in the end.

You see, it all happened on his coronation day.

By all accounts, it was the event to remember: the crown prince celebrating his newfound duties with a ball so large that half the kingdom was invited to the celebration. With that many people, the king had hoped, Washington would be sure to find someone to marry.

Tucker smiled at him as he sauntered toward Washington. “No offense, dude,” he said, “But only nerds hang out near the wall during a party."

Washington arched his brow. "How could anyone take offense to that?"

Tucker settled in at Washington’s side with a smirk. “Seriously, though,” he said, “If your dad keeps glaring at you like that, you’re gonna burst into flame.”

“I don’t care,” Wash said mutinously, “I’m not going to marry anyone until I’m ready.”

Tucker poked him in the side until he stopped sulking. “Okay, I know that and youknow that, but your dad doesn’t, alright?” he said, “So just pick someone to dance with and get it over with so he’ll get off your case."

Washington paused, weighing it over in his mind. “Like who?”

Tucker’s eyes skated across the room in search of somebody for Wash to dance with. "I don't know," he said in faint exasperation, "Just pick someone. Anyone. Someone like...her."

His voice trailed off into a near whisper. Startled by his reaction, Washington followed his gaze to where _she_ was standing. Kaikaina, a name he would only find out later. She bounded down the stairs in a whirl of energy and bright yellow fabric, effortlessly gaining the gazes of everybody there.

Wash and Tucker were no less enraptured.

Washington swallowed hard. “ _Her?_ ”

“Yeah, why not?” Tucker said, “She’s gotta be the hottest one here.”

“That’s...true, but—"

Tucker yanked him by the arm and pulled him onto the ballroom floor. For a second, Washington thought he was going to be pulled into a dance with Tucker. His heart started beating faster and faster, pounding so hard he could barely hear himself think.

“But nothing, dude,” Tucker said, "You're getting over there and dancing."

And with that, Tucker mercilessly abandoned him in the middle of the ballroom, leaving him with his entire court staring at him. Washington felt himself turn bright red, but since there was nothing he could do about that, the only thing left to do was to take Tucker’s advice and go over to where the young lady was standing.

"Would you—"

She dismissed him with a single glance.

Washington straightened up stiffly and then makes a perfect bow in front of her, putting on every one of his hard earned graces. “Would you do me the honor of granting me this dance?” he said formally, knowing that every eye was on them.

“What?” she said, “Nah, I’m good.”

He floundered for a couple of seconds, wondering where to go from there. There were the standard introductions, of course, though with that kind of an attitude toward him, he sincerely doubted she wanted to make them.

"No offense," she said, "It's just that you look like kind of a nerd."

Washington narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Did Tucker put you up to this?" he asked. He searched through his memory for some sign that he had seen her before amongst their friends, but came up empty. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around here before.”

She backs away from him distrustfully, suspicion written all over her face. “Are you a guard?” she asked, “‘Cause, like, only guards give a crap if someone crashes a stupid party.”

“I’m not a guard!” he protested, “I’m the—”

“You’re not gonna fool me, _guard_.”

“I’m not a guard,” Washington repeated irritably, “I’m the _prince_.” He crossed his arms and stared down at her in irritation, waiting for an apology that never came. What did come, however, was something twice as confusing and three times more unexpected than anything she said before.

“Oh,” she said, “Your party kinda sucks.”

“I—what?” Washington said, “Excuse me?"

"You don’t even have a DJ."

"I have musicians!"

"Pshhh," she said, "It doesn't count unless someone's got a guitar."

"That's not even _slightly_ how it works."

They glared at each other for a moment or two, tension rising between them fast as they do battle with narrowed eyes and a gaze that never flits away. Then, with a smile as unexpected as everything else about her, she finally broke the standoff between them.

“Let’s dance,” she said out of absolutely nowhere.

Washington blinked hard. "What?"

She squeezed his hand with a surprisingly strong grip. "Your party is boring," she said as she pulled him onto the dance floor, "So let's dance."

To his confusion, he found himself agreeing.

“So," he said once they were on the dance floor, "What are you doing here tonight?"

“Duh,” she said, “I’m just here to party with my girls.”

Washington looked around—for what, he didn’t quite know, except for maybe a sign of whoever she was talking about. “Your...girls?” he asks hesitantly, wondering who it is she was talking about.

“Yeah. You know, like my boobs," she said with a wide grin on her face, motioning to them as though Washington needed a guide. To his chagrin, he found his eyes trailing helplessly down to follow the path she took.

"It's okay, you can look," she assured him when he forced his gaze away, "I put a lot of work into squeezing these puppies into this dress. Somebody better think they're awesome!"

"They really are," Washington blurted out fervently. He promptly turned red from his head to his feet, feeling humiliation and self-deprecation rising up with every second that passed. "I mean—I just meant—I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"Pshh, what did I tell you?" the mystery woman said, "It’s totally cool if you wanna stare."

"It wouldn't be appropriate," he told her.

She snorted inelegantly, so unlike the courtiers he knew that he found himself completely charmed. "Yeah, so?" she said, leaning forward until they were scandalously close. "Don't be such a nerd!"

“I’m not being a nerd,” he protested, ”Why does everyone keep saying that?”

She snickered at him in response. He could feel it vibrating against his chest as she leaned in even closer, sharing the laughter with her whole body even as she hid it from everybody else. It was like a secret that only the two of them knew, and something about it took Washington’s breath away.

They danced the next two dances together and then had a short break before dancing again, stealing a total of five altogether—an unseemly amount by anyone’s count. They could hear the whispers and the conversations about how untoward it was, but that only made her laugh louder, only made their faces bow together conspiratorially.

“I want you to meet Tucker—a friend of mine,” he said almost breathlessly when they finally parted, “I think you’ll like him. I hope you’ll like him. You share his sense of humor.”

He was too well-mannered to tug her over the way he wanted to, but that didn’t stop him from taking her hand as he led her off the dance floor.

Tucker nodded frostily when they got to his side.

She nodded back. “‘Sup?”

Wash took note of the odd tension between them, but was so excited to introduce them to each other that he didn't pay too much attention it. "This is Tucker, my...my friend," he said, only tripping over the words a little bit, "We've known each other for years."

“That’s cool,” she told him, nodding again.

Tucker rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Cool.”

The woman scowled at his disrespect, but to Washington's surprise she didn't kick up a fuss like he thought she would've. Washington did on her behalf, silently telling Tucker to stop being rude—something that Tucker was sure to pick up thanks to their longtime friendship with each other.

The answer he got was even stranger than Tucker's behavior.

"Whatever," Tucker muttered to the ballroom floor, sounding desolate and stiff, shoulders slumped in what looked like defeat.

Washington felt a little concerned at the sight. He immediately let go off the woman's hand. “Excuse us,” he said distractedly, then lead Tucker a few feet away, hand coming up to rest at his elbow, "Is something wrong?"

Tucker snorted.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Tucker said sullenly, "Just forget about it."

“Tucker…”

The sight of a  servant stepping up to him stopped whatever he was about to say, manners dictating that he not cause a scene where anybody could witness it. He promptly let go of Tucker’s arm and nodded as the servant bowed.

“Your highness,” the servant said, “I bring word from your father.”

“My father?” Washington repeated. He glanced up and caught the King’s disapproving stare as he fiercely scowled at him from across the room. “What is it he wants?”

“His Majesty insists on speaking with you at once,” the servant told him.

“I—"

He glanced back at Tucker in regret, trying to make his apologies without words, then glanced back at the woman and tried to do the same, “I’m sorry,” he told them both, “I have to go.”

The woman and Tucker shrugged at the same time.

“Dude, just _go_ ,” Tucker replied, “I’ll take care of her.”

And at that slightly ominous response, Washington left them both behind.

He spent the next ten minutes being admonished for his impropriety and by the time he finally managed to untangle himself from the conversation, he looked up to find that both Tucker and the woman were gone.

He searched for them for what felt like forever, but no one remembered seeing them leave and no one had any idea of where they could have gone. It was like they had disappeared entirely, vanished in the air like some sort of magic.

He didn’t find either one until midnight.

Tucker practically tackled him as soon as he stepped up to the balustrade overlooking the gardens. “That chick was awesome, dude,” he said, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

"Who? The woman I was dancing with?"

"Yeah," Tucker said, "We hooked up in the coat room while everyone was distracted talking about you two. It was fucking awesome. Do you know how _bendy_ she is? Cause, like, whoa. Seriously, I am all about having a second go at it. No, wait, I think I’m in _love_.”

And while Washington was still reeling from hearing those words coming out of Tucker’s lips, he only barely managed to see the way that Tucker’s expression shifted into something more melancholy. “Are you sure?” Wash said, “You only met her a few hours ago.”

“I am so fucking sure,” Tucker said adamantly, “I think I want to marry her.”

Washington swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. "You certainly have a lot in common," he said. It was true, too, he realized as he said it. Their personalities certainly meshed better than either of them ever would with Washington. In fact, from the little he knew of her, he'd go so far as to say they were meant for each other.

"Yeah," Tucker said, sounding glum, "But I don't even know her name. All I have left is a fucking shoe."

Wash placed a sympathetic hand on Tucker's shoulder. "Don't worry," he said when Tucker looked up at him, stomach twisting at the sight of those sad brown eyes, "I'll help you find her again. I promise."

And he did.

 

* * *

 

They only had about six hours of light left in the day, so they were forced to sleep outside in the woods not long after they went on their way. Tucker was more than unhappy about it, but Washington manages to convince him that it wouldn’t do them any good if their horses broke their necks while they were traveling through the night. He seemed to accept that for a little while, but as time goes by he gets more and more sullen until finally they both just head to sleep.

After about a half an hour, he hears a hissed whisper calling his name.

"Wash! _Wash!_ "

Washington groans and rolls on his side to face him. "What it it, Tucker?"

"It's freezing out here."

Washington sighs into the cold night air. “What do you want me to do about it?” he asks in exasperation, “I told you how cold it got at night,  but you refused to believe me.”

“I didn’t think it got _this_ cold,” Tucker replies. His teeth are chattering the whole way through the sentence, and when Wash sits up and looks to the other side of the fire, he sees Tucker shaking almost theatrically in his bedroll.

Their eyes meet and hold over the distance. Tucker’s has an odd light in them, one that causes a small thrill to run through Washington’s veins. It’s that thrill which causes him to say what he says next.

“We could always share.”

Tucker’s eyes close for the briefest of moments, but before Wash can ask about the look of unhappiness on his face, Tucker is rolling up onto his knees and dragging his bedroll over to where Washington is laying.

“Thanks,” Tucker says roughly, “I was fucking freezing over there.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Washington says.

They zip their bedrolls together and then slip inside, curling up inside like a pair of commas, the heat rising between them almost instantly and stifling him until he struggles to breathe. But despite this, he does not move. He doesn’t think he could stand to.

Instead, Wash closes his eyes and breathes in the sweet smell of Tucker's hair, fighting the urge to bury his face in it. He refuses to take advantage of the moment, of _Tucker_ , even though he knows this is the only chance he'll ever get.

“Good night, Tucker,” he says softly.

Tucker doesn’t say a word.

 

* * *

 

They get there by the time the sun sets on the very next day.

Washington gazes up at the mountain of sweet briar covering the cottage from top to bottom, thorns sprawling over every inch of every area as far as the eye can see. It's so thick in places that you can barely tell there's a house hidden beneath the roses, and so vast that it's impossible to walk on the ground.

"You neglected to tell me about the flowers," Washington says.

Tucker looks at him defensively. "So what?"

“Nothing!” Washington is quick to say, “It just would’ve been nice to know, that’s all.” At the very least, he would’ve brought along an army of gardeners. But then, that’s not how these curses go, are they? If it were that simple, no one would ever need to worry about spells at all.

“You have a sword, right?” Tucker says, “So just get in there and do your thing.”

Wash hesitates before stepping forward and pulling his sword out. “Are these magical flowers?” he asks Tucker, “Or just magically grown? I need to know before I let either of us touch them.”

“I don’t know. Grif tried getting in earlier, but every time he cut down a bush another one grew. in its place”

“So how did you get in?” Wash asks curiously.

“I just cut them down and kept on going.”

Washington pauses, reevaluating the situation, and fights the urge to bury his hands in his head. “And you didn’t think that it was odd that you got through when no one else could?” he asks Tucker.

“Dude, I don’t fucking know,” Tucker says, “I just thought it was because I had a magical sword.”

Wash considers that for a few seconds, debating the likelihood of it. It could be true for all he knows—it’s not as if he knows all the details of the spell—but somehow Washington thinks there’s more to it than that.

“Regardless,” Wash says, “We should get inside before it gets dark.”

Tucker nods and takes out his sword. With Tucker leading the way, the path practically opens before them, leaves and flowers throwing themselves aside in an effort to get away from the sharpness of the blade.

They get inside in record time.

The cottage itself is eerily quiet. There’s no sign of life anywhere; no family or animals of any kind loiter the halls, and even the birds outside have stopped chirping. “Where is she?” Washington asks, “And where is everyone else?”

“Grif said they all just fell asleep and woke up outside,” Tucker explains, “So everyone is either home or sleeping over at their friend’s or family’s place.”

“I’m surprised Grif left.”

“Yeah. I think he’s hanging out with Simmons now. He said all that nerd stuff that Simmons is into has got to be good for something. I guess he’s hoping that they’ll figure out a way to break the spell.”

“Seems sensible enough,” Washington says. He glances at Tucker and then looks away again before their eyes can meet. “But you don’t think they’ll figure anything out.”

“If I did, do you think I’d be here with _you?_ ”

Washington’s back straightens.

Belatedly, Tucker seems to understand how that sounded. “Uh, wait. I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, “I just meant—"

“I know what you meant,” Wash says stiffly.

Tucker’s face fills with regret, but to Washington’s relief he doesn’t try to explain himself any further. “Uh, let’s just get to Kai already, okay?” he says.

“Yeah,” Washington says.

As they make their way over to the room, Tucker explains that he put her there on his first trip into the cottage. “She was passed out on the living room rug when I found her,” he says, “So I picked her up and put her in her bedroom.”

“And she didn’t stir at all when you moved her?”

“Nah,” Tucker says. He hesitates, then amends his statement with, “I thought she did for a minute, but it turned out to be nothing.”

Washington looks at him sharply. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Tucker says. He shrugs and avoids Wash’s eyes, looking in front of him as they walk along the halls. “I thought I saw her fingers twitch when I kissed her.”

Washington can’t imagine how much hope he would’ve had in that moment. How much hope was ruthlessly torn away from him when Kai neglected to rise from her bed. Tucker must have been devastated.

“Maybe that—"

 _Means something_ , he wants to say, but Tucker gives him such a vicious warning look that Washington’s mouth automatically snaps shut on the words. He stays quiet the rest of the journey, keeping close to Tucker in apology.

And then there she is, still and silent, all sign of life—of what makes her _Kai_ —completely gone from her in the worst possible way. It’s like watching a painting and waiting for motion, impossible no matter how much you stare. It’s awful and it’s terrifying and Wash can’t imagine how Tucker dealt with seeing this as long as he has.

“Is she—"

“She’s alive,” Tucker reminds him, “She’s just sleeping.”

“I know,” Washington says, but he focuses on the sight of her breathing, never looking away from the way her chest rises and falls. With every step forward his heart beats just a little bit faster, pounding in his chest like it already knows how this story is going to end.

He just wishes it would let his brain in on the answer.

Washington lightly touches the back of her hand. It’s cold and still, almost like death, and the feel of it would make him shiver hard if it weren’t for Tucker’s presence at his back. “It’s...strange,” he whispers, “Seeing her so...”

“I know, right?” Tucker says. He moves closer until they’re touching all along one side. It’s comforting—far more comforting than Washington should be okay admitting to himself. “She should be dancing or yelling or something, not _sleeping_. It’s messed up.”

Washington can’t help but agree.

“So what are you waiting for, anyway?” Tucker asks, “Just kiss her already so she can wake up.”

Somehow he forgot about that part.

Washington’s eyes widen in dismay. “Kiss her?” he blurts out, “While she’s—that doesn’t seem right.” Unspoken is the thought that he’s not sure how Tucker could have done it; he knows that it was to save her life, but something about it just feels wrong.

“Dude, I just fucking kissed her on her cheek,” Tucker tells him. He scowls at Washington as if he’s been wrongfully accused—which, to be fair, he kind of was. “I wasn’t gonna mack on her while she’s in a coma.”

“I never said you were!” Washington says quickly, “I was just trying to get all the facts.”

And the fact is, if Tucker _were_ her true love then the cheek kiss alone would have been enough. But if Tucker couldn’t do it, then why on earth would Washington be able to?

Tucker nudges him in the side, inadvertently shoving his dark thoughts aside and Wash takes that as his cue to lean down. He hovers over her face for a moment, searching with his eyes, trying to see any sign of life— _something_ that would make this whole thing easier to deal with.

But there’s nothing. Nothing at all. So Washington holds his breath and gently places his lips to Kaikaina’s head, praying with everything that he has that this will be enough to bring her back to them.

“Did it work?” Tucker asks eagerly, “Is she awake?” He dives forward, nearly pushing Washington aside in his effort to get closer to Kai. “Oh, shit, her hand twitched again!”

Washington whips up like a flash. “Is she—”

No, she’s not.

His stomach drops like he’s been thrown from a cliff and is just waiting for his world to end. Tucker stands there nearly frozen, hands hovering over her shoulders like he wants to shake her awake. Wash doesn’t blame him. He doubts Tucker spent a minute on this journey allowing himself to think about what would happen if this failed.

Tucker turns to him accusingly. “What are you waiting for?”

“Tucker…”

Tucker gives him the fiercest look that Washington has ever seen in his life, so wild and determined that it steals the words and air from his lungs. "Kiss her again,” he demands, “You didn’t do it right the first time”

Wash looks at him helplessly.

Tucker shakes his head in a violent denial, then brings her hand up to his mouth, lips pressing tight against it in desperation. “Kiss her again, Wash,” he whispers against her skin, “C’mon, do it for her.”

And since Washington could never deny anything from Tucker, could never deny anything at all for _Kai,_ he leans down one more time and presses his lips to the top of her head, lingering there for a long moment.

And this time, this time _everything_ changes.

In a burst of light and sound and magic, Kai’s body fills with life again, redness flooding into her lips and cheeks and painting them with a beautiful light. Her mouth parts on a soft gasp, eyes flickering open at the same time she sighs into the air.

“Ugh,” she says, “How much did I drink last night?”

The sound of their relieved laughter echoes in the room. Tucker bows his head to their still clasped hands, chuckling into them as though everything wrong in the world is right again. “Shit, Kai,” he struggles to say, “You scared the fuck out of us.”

“You really did,” Wash agrees. He backs away from her so that she can sit up in bed and watches as Tucker ignores her personal space completely, crawling up next to her so that he can get even closer than he already is.

They look good together. They always have. Better than either of them look with Wash.

Washington clears his throat. "I'll just leave you two alone now," he says, throat closing up around the words, "You look like you could use some privacy."

Kai looks puzzled for a second. "What, like for sex?"

Like usual, she's so frank that it causes embarrassment to run through him. Wash closes his eyes on a wince, feeling his cheeks grow warm at the thought. It's a pretty image, to be sure, but he doubts it's entirely appropriate for him to be picturing his friends like _that_.

"I didn't say that," Wash tells her unflinchingly. He keeps his body language as relaxed as he can, trying hard not to reveal the depth of his emotion even as he avoids her gaze, "But if that's what you want to do, go right ahead."

"Wait," Tucker interrupts, "What are you talking about?"

Washington avoids Tucker's gaze too. "The spell's been broken," he points out as if it were a little thing, "Now everything can go back to the way that it was."

"What spell?" Kai asks.

Wash continues backing away, but Tucker stops him before he can step foot outside the door. “Dude, what the fuck?" he says, grabbing Washington's elbow in anger, “You broke the spell. Are you seriously not going to tell her?”

“We broke the spell,” Washington corrects.

"What spell?" Kai repeats loudly.

"—But that doesn’t mean that anything has to change. You two were together before this started and you'll still be together when it—"

“Wait, _what?_ ” Tucker says, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Washington looks at him in exasperation. “Tucker, you can’t possibly have missed what happened in there,” he says reprovingly, “Even you aren’t that blind.”

"Well, _apparently_ I—"

"You had to have seen—"

"Hey!" Kai shouts at the top of her lungs, startling them both into silence. When they look over, they see her standing on the bed, towering over them like some kind of giant. A very impatient, very _angry_ giant. "Will somebody tell me what you're talking about? 'Cause I know I just woke up and all, but you two are being _super_ weird."

Tucker and Wash exchange glances, silently arguing over who gets to break the news to her. "Didn't your mom or Grif explain anything to you when you were younger?" Tucker asks finally, "Didn't they tell you that you were cursed to fall asleep when you turned twenty-one ?"

"Ohhh," she says, realization dawning on her face, "You're talking about _that_ spell."

"Talking about—how many curses are you under?" Washington asks, voice going shrill in that way York always teases him about.

Kai hops down from the bed and tosses her hair. "I dunno. A lot?" she says, sounding completely unconcerned by the fact, "People are really jealous of me."

"What," Wash says flatly.

"Yeah, like this one girl cursed me so I'd get pregnant whenever I had sex. But the joke's on her! I just have a lot of abortions!"

"Yeah...wait, what?" Tucker says.

Personally, Washington decides to let that one pass. Tucker must decide the same, because he turns to Wash with a frown on his face and tries to continue with their previous argument. “What do you mean we both broke the spell?”

“She didn’t wake up for me,” Wash explains.

“Uh, yeah, she totally did,” Tucker points out, “I was there. I saw you do it.”

“She didn’t wake up for me,” Washington repeats, “She didn’t wake up at all until we both kissed her.”  He looks up and meets Tucker’s eyes for the first time since they got here, waiting to see the shock and dismay on his face. But to his surprise, it doesn’t come, and while Washington is still adjusting to that Tucker says something completely unexpected.

"So, what? You're leaving _us?_ "

Washington blinks hard. “I—what?”

“That’s such bullshit!” Tucker bursts out.

“Yeah!” Kai says, even though it’s clear she doesn’t have any clue what’s going on. She moves to Tucker’s side anyway, glaring at Wash while she crosses her arms threateningly.

“Excuse me?” Washington asks.

“You’re just gonna give up on us after all the crap we went through together over the years?” Tucker says indignantly, “We went through three spells! I hooked up with Kai just to make you jealous!”

“Woohoo! Jealousy sex!”

Kai holds her hand up for a high five that Tucker automatically moves to give her. Washington watches them, completely stunned, still reeling from what Tucker just said.

"You did what?" Wash asks in disbelief. He looks at Kai. "And you're okay with it?"

"Yeah, I told you," she replies, "Jealousy sex is the best! Besides, I only hooked up with him in the first place because I was hoping it would lead to a threesome."

Washington closes his eyes and silently rubs his temples.

“I thought I lost you,” he says in a low, serious voice. Tucker stiffens in shock at the randomness of the comment, pulling away from Kai and stepping closer to Wash. "That day we met her. I thought I lost both of you at the same time."

Tucker's face shifts into an expression of guilt.

Washington shakes his head. "But I didn't. Did I?"

Tucker's expression shifts again, this time with a hesitant hope lighting up his face. "No way," he breathes, "You definitely didn't."

"It just took us awhile to find each other."

Kai takes two steps forward and wraps her arms around them both, squeezing them in until they’re both wrapped up in her embrace. "Duh," she says when they look down at her, "Don't you know anything? That's how the story's supposed to go, stupid. That's how you get your happy ending."

Washington thinks of every story he heard of growing up. Thinks of the trials and tribulations. Thinking of losing love only to find it again. Thinks of the magic of happily ever after.

He never thought that would apply to him. It's kind of nice to know he's wrong.

"Happy endings, huh?" he says with a smile, "I think I can live with that."

And so he did, for the rest of his days.


End file.
